


Happier

by SophiexHorayne



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caspar's a soft bi bby, Joe is a chaotic and closted gay, M/M, Oli White is the bestest friend, i guess sort of a slowburn, i guess sort of internalised homophobia but i think Joe is mostly just smol and scared, mild joeck too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-10 22:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15301737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiexHorayne/pseuds/SophiexHorayne
Summary: Caspar does not smile around Joe anymore. He is not happy around Joe anymore. He can never be happy around Joe again because they never worked and now they both have to pay the price. So Joe watches as Caspar smiles at his girlfriend, as he fondly brushes hair from her eyes. It could be worse, Joe thinks every, single, time he is in this situation. At least Caspar is happy now. He is happier, with her.Based on Happier by Ed Sheeran (obviously)





	Happier

Joe sits at the breakfast bar, twirling his empty glass between his fingers, watching Caspar across the room through cold, act-like-everything-is-fine eyes.

Caspar is with his girlfriend on the sofa. He has his arm around her, showing her something on his phone, making her laugh. He smiles as she laughs, dimples in his cheeks. He looks happy- happier, even. His eyes shine as he looks at her. Looks at her like she’s his whole world. 

Joe looks away, down at his glass. It is empty. He lifts it to his lips nonetheless, throws his head back and waits for the last few drops to touch in his mouth. His heart feels heavy, like lead. His eyes cannot help but look back over at Caspar when he puts his glass back down. He and his girlfriend have started to kiss. They are so happy. Caspar’s even been talking about them making a video together, make their relationship public. It is hard not to cry, while watching them.

“Hey Joe.” Oli says, taking a seat next to him at the breakfast bar.

Joe drags his eyes from Caspar, forces with all his strength a smile at Oli. “Hi.” He says, failing to put any light in his voice. Oli doesn’t seem to notice much.

“Makes you feel pretty hopeless right?” Oli says. Joe frowns, flushes.

“Huh?”

Oli nods towards Caspar, still kissing his girlfriend, gently tucking a hair behind her ear. “Him finally having a girlfriend, us still being single.”

 _Oh_. Joe nods, forces a short laugh, a hum of acknowledgement. “Yeah I guess.”

“You want another drink?” Oli asks, changing the subject, and pointing vaguely towards Joe’s empty glass. Joe nods, pushes it towards his friend for a refill. He doesn’t care what it is Oli gives him, alcohol or not. 

Joe looks around the room, Josh and Mikey sit on the opposite sofa, Jack and Conor sharing one with Caspar and his girlfriend. Jack nudges Caspar until he forces him to let go of his girlfriend. He smiles at her, blushes as he notices almost everyone is watching, looks at everyone one by one. His eyes hold Joe’s for a second longer. Joe does not know what he is trying to say. Oli is handing him his drink, Joe takes it, chugs some of it immediately. It is beer. 

“We could go out.” Caspar suggests eventually, when most eyes are still on him, “All of us, a bar somewhere.”

“I should probably get going.” Caspar’s girlfriend says then, stands and takes her small handbag from the coffee table.

“Oh no you don’t have to.” Caspar says, standing also, “We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to.” He touches her arm gently. Joe’s hand grips his drink. He cannot stand the care in Caspar’s touch. 

“No, it’s okay.” His girlfriend smiles up at him eyes soft, glistening, loving, “I need to get going anyway, go out, have fun with your friends.”

Caspar nods, “I’ll walk you out.” They walk out the apartment together. Joe guesses he meant he would walk her out the entire building. He takes a few more gulps of beer.

“Mate slow down.” Oli says. Joe can tell he is unsure whether to be worried or amused. Joe only smiles at him.

 

When Caspar comes back he is glowing. The other boys take the mick out of him how he is so in love, how he is blushing bright, bright red, how he got so lucky. He smiles, and his face does flush bright red, but his smile falters as he looks at Joe, Joe who is not making jokes, who is not smiling. 

“We can still go out.” Caspar says, looking away from Joe, “Have some fun.” He sounds light, excited, but Joe notices how he sounds suddenly desperate to go out, itching to. Just from looking at him.

Everyone agrees to go, and where. They put on coats and shoes. Everyone starts to leave, Caspar staying behind to lock the door behind him, Joe fiddling a little too long over his shoelace. Joe hears the door click, but knows Caspar’s still there.

“Please can you act happy for me.” He says finally. Joe finishes his shoelace, stands up.

“I am.” Joe says. And he is, because happy was something he and Caspar missed out on before. And Caspar deserves it.

“ _Act like it Joe_.” Caspar says. His voice is pleading. “I know this can’t be easy for you but please. Else someone else will notice.”

Joe feels like crying, throat bound with tears, chest heavy. “I’m trying.” He manages to choke out. He takes in a shaky breath, closes his eyes. He hears Caspar walk over to him, feels his arms wrap around him, holding him. Joe tries not to cry into his chest, tries not to hug Caspar back, tries not to lean and fall against him. But it is simply too easy to fail with all of those things.

“This is for the best Joe.” Caspar whispers, desperately, like he so badly wants Joe to snap out of the feelings, to make it all better. 

Joe pulls away from him, has to. He has not cried yet, he did not hug Caspar back. That is something. But he did fall and lean against him.

“Smile?” Caspar asks, hopefully. But Joe knows his smile is forced too. He returns it all the same, as Caspar tells him to, sighs again, “Let’s go, they’ll wonder where we are.”

They leave Caspar’s apartment together, walk slowly. Joe tries not to get too close but it is difficult not to, easy to break that rule too. It is not a sin, brushing their arms together, but Caspar flinches his away like a bee was hovering around it. They meet up with the others outside, Caspar makes up some lie about Joe forgetting where he left his jacket.

The bar is fun. All lights and music and drinks and friends. Joe tries to stay by Oli’s side, but he ends up with Jack too. Because Jack is fun and it is easy, too easy, to dance with him, laugh with him, flirt with him even. It is still Caspar’s arms around him by the end of the night though, when vlogging cameras are long since turned off. It is still Caspar he leans against when tiredness overcomes drunkenness. It is always Caspar who helps him into the taxi even though Joe does not really need the help, but like before, it is always too easy, too simple, to fall against him. 

In the taxi Oli sits the other side of him. Joe’s always in the middle seat, perks of being small (or a disadvantage of it). Joe thinks of leaning on Caspar but decides against it. Caspar no longer looks happy, now, without his girlfriend, even though he wanted to go out in the first place. Perhaps he is tired too, like Joe. Joe fights the urge to invite him to stay the night, does not want the disasters of it, or the rejection.

Joe is sure that just a part of Caspar still loves him, is still in love with him. Maybe every part of him is. That is why he holds Joe’s eyes for longer than the others, why his smile falls, or grows, when he looks at him, why he held him so tightly in the flat earlier. But he is never happy about that, like the days when they were, what you could call together, but he can be happy now. Joe knows that should be a good thing.

Still, he wishes Caspar would invite him to stay, when he and Josh get out the taxi outside their apartment block. Joe leans against Oli after a quiet goodbye to Caspar, thinking that surely he must be catching on by now.

/

 Oli had always been there, even though he may not have realised it. He was at their apartment the day after Caspar and Joe first argued and argued, Caspar went out. Joe hadn’t invited Oli, he just turned up, like they had a psychic link and he’d sensed something was wrong.

Oli made Joe realise that day, that even though his instinct when he is sad, or angry, or hurting, is to close himself off and remain alone, he always needs somebody. Not someone to comfort him, or hold him, or to talk about his problems, just someone to be there, keep him steady. Grounded. Oli is that person.

Oli was there when he and Caspar moved out. He helped Joe move his stuff in the new house, move boxes, choose necessities like cutlery, plates, a computer.

Oli was the one who told Joe about Caspar’s girlfriend. Caspar never told him himself, just avoided Joe at all costs. Oli kept him calm that evening, because Joe would not react badly when Oli is there, else he would have asked unanswerable questions, and when Oli left he had no fury left to scream, no sadness there to cry, just emptiness.

Oli is his common ground, equilibrium. Even if he does not realise it.

Caspar could have been his common ground. Looking in his eyes keeps him steady, balanced. But then Caspar became the root of most of his problems, not the solution. He and Caspar could have been the perfect solution, if Joe was not so terrified, or if Caspar was a little more patient. They were the perfect problem though.

Caspar and he, it was never going to last. Not when Joe cannot admit to anybody that he is what he wants, not when Caspar never wanted to wait for that, not when they had moved so fast, not when they could never juggle professional and friends and lovers. They fell, in and in though, and never out.

They never fell out, never really ended. For a while when they moved out, Joe did think they ended, until Caspar was at his door a couple of weeks later. The moment the door closed they were on each other, like animals, hungry and desperate and wild with their hands and mouths. Because, Joe realised before they fell asleep in each others arms that night, they missed each other.

But then, after a few more visits and drunken kisses or hidden kisses, Caspar had just stopped. Avoided him at all costs. And then Oli told him about Caspar’s girlfriend, and it made sense, sort of.

And now they have ended, kind of, save for the prolonged looks and the intensity of every touch and the sincerity in all of Caspar’s words. They ended, maybe, but they never fell out of whatever they fell into all those years ago in their apartment. Joe is sure they never really will. 

But the main thing is Caspar is happy now. He was never happy with Joe, even if he tried to be. It was too hard, too complicated, too messy and full of lies and secrets. Caspar hated all of that. But Caspar did not hate Joe for it, Joe knows that he never would.

/

Days pass before Joe sees Caspar again. Usually it is never more than a few days before they have to be near one another, for work or just social gatherings. It is painfully impossible to keep away, and subsequently painfully impossible to get over each other.

They have a meeting, again. Meetings are okay; professional environments are easy to hide feelings in. Not intimate, sit pressed up close to me while we share pizza and popcorn and watch a movie. Instead, it is all suits and sit up straight, talk money making and strategies. Sometimes they don’t even sit next to each other. Nonetheless Caspar looks good in a suit. Joe nearly tells him so too (he doesn’t though).

Afterwards, Caspar offers him a coffee at the near by cafe. Joe thinks they would look weird, stand out in all their posh clothes. But Caspar asks gently, eyes all soft sapphire that pulls Joe in like the ocean does sand (but the ocean spits sand back out again too).

Joe agrees to the coffee.

It starts to rain when they’re in the cafe. Caspar tells him they came in at just the right time. No one, out of the few in there, looks at them weirdly for their clothing. It is London, nothing is weird, especially men on lunch breaks in suits (not that they are on lunch breaks). Caspar orders for Joe without consulting him, knows Joe’s taste in coffee like he knows Joe’s taste in men (like no one else does).

The cafe is almost empty, spare a couple students working, earphones in. Caspar says it is because it is too late for lunch, too early for most work shifts to be over. They sit in the booth by the little window in the corner. Joe thinks it looks like something out of a book, a fantasy book, a fantasy and romance. There are even small flowers in pots on the window sill. Caspar watches Joe admire them as he twiddles his coffee mug, too hot and painful to hold, but pleasant just to fiddle with, much like he and Joe really.

“How are you?” Caspar asks eventually. It is a mundane phrase, but Caspar means it, really means it. Joe has turned his gaze to the rain pattering on the windows, it is falling slowly, only a few drops. 

He looks away eventually, up at Caspar with wide and tired grey eyes. He shrugs, thinks that he and Caspar should probably not be here, together, alone, talking. It’s all too easy for conversation to turn soft, deep.

Joe shrugs, turning all his concentration down to the seal in the paper coffee cup, like he wants to tear it open. “I’m okay.” He speaks eventually. His voice is softer, quieter than in their meeting.

“We should do a video together soon, it’s been a while.” Caspar tells him, making conversation easier, more work talk, easy, plain talk.

Joe nods, knows he is right. No matter how much he hates it, most of their career _is_ built on their relationship. Whatever that relationship may be. “What would you like to film?”

It is all too plain, calm. Video ideas used to light Joe’s eyes like there is a real, physical light turning on in his mind. His eyes barely even lift from his coffee cup, voice monotone. 

“Joe.” Caspar’s voice holds something, a sort of sternness Joe only hears when Caspar wants _the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth_. “Find someone? Please.”

 Joe looks up at him, because eye contact will make Caspar understand this is no-go territory, especially in a public, London, Cafe. “I don’t need to.” Eye contact also tells Caspar that he is the someone Joe has already found.

“Someone else.” Caspar insists, “I did.” 

“That’s easy for you.” His voice is a little louder, shallow too. He does not mean it like that though, feels bad, “Sorry, you know what I mean.” Caspar always does. Because Caspar likes girls too, and though it will not, does not, make everything easier, he can still hide behind that, Joe can’t. It’s boys or boys and he can’t. “You’re happier with her though.” Joe continues, not really sure why he’s still talking, especially in a Public, London, Cafe. “I’m glad of that.”

“Joe.” Caspar uses that soft tone, the one he uses when he usually takes Joe’s hands and tells him something very romantic, special. He does not take his hands though, not now. “I’m not that happy.”

Genuine surprise crosses Joe’s eyes. He always looks so happy with her, eyes shine, dimples show. “You look it.” Joe tells him. He hates having this conversation, let alone here, in a Public, London, Cafe.

“I still want-“ Maybe even Caspar hates having this conversation here. “It’s not like she’s the one.”

Joe almost asks ‘who is then’ but he knows the answer. He does not need to hear it. Not here, not anywhere because it will hurt too much, “So she’s just someone.” Joe says, then adds, “Does she know that?” Because it is not really fair on her, though he never needs to let Caspar know that, he knows already.

Caspar shrugs. “She probably doesn’t want to admit it.” He says, he thinks it is true, too. He finally sips his coffee. Joe does the same. They fall quiet, watch the rain on the windows, watch London live on behind it.

Eventually, Caspar speaks again, “Maybe an ex roommate tag.” He’s talking about video ideas again. Always bringing the topic back to work, making it easier.

 Joe nods, uncertainly though, because it is a video that sounds like bringing up raw memories. He is not sure if he can do that. But it is not like he has anything else to suggest.

 They finish their coffees in silence. It is a little awkward, tense, but Joe’s just glad they are this close to each other. He lets himself watch Caspar watch the rain. Caspar is beautiful.

 /

If what Caspar had told Joe that day in the cafe is true, he’s a brilliant actor. He told Joe he was not that happy, and when he said it, he did not look happy either. But he seems so happy now.

Caspar posts he and his girlfriend often on his snapchat and instagram, smiling, being cute and couply, so much so that Joe never watches his stories anymore. When they all meet up, the group of them, she is almost always there, and Caspar seems so happy with that fact, clings to her like he is in puppy love. 

Joe wonders if Caspar just lied to him about not being happy, that day in the cafe, to make Joe feel better. But Caspar never lies to him, he reminds himself.

When they go out for meals, along with his girlfriend, Caspar’s happy then. He usually sits away from Joe when that happens, and Joe is glad of that, thinks Caspar is doing that for Joe more than for himself. But such a consideration just means Joe falls in and in even more. He looks happy, across the table with his girlfriend. He gives her food from his plate, feeds her. Joe remembers Caspar used to feed him too, used to finish Joe’s food when he inevitably gets too full. Oli, who sits next to him most of the time, does not finish it for him, just points out how much he left. Sometimes Jack takes the plate and finishes it for him. Joe thinks he could get used to that from Jack, if he really, really tried. Instead he’s too busy thinking about how happy Caspar looks as he takes food from his girlfriend’s fork, laughs when she misses his mouth.

Caspar’s girlfriend is also there when they film their collab. It helps when Josh is there, and Grant, eases the tension a little. It is still awkward though, when they cuddle on the sofa in the video, and she watches, unsure whether to laugh or be concerned at their intimacy. Joe’s prank on Caspar is meant to be funny too, meant to make him happy. When he edits his face over Caspar’s girlfriend, sticks hundreds of those edits all over his bedroom wall. It is meant to be funny. Caspar laughs for the camera, smiles, but his face falls when the cameras goes off.

 His girlfriend does not get the joke either. Joe thinks she does not like him all that much.

 /

Caspar cannot bare to leave Joe alone, when he is unwell during the youtuber football match. He visits him in the evening, after a bunch of concerned texts that distract him from the football, in which Joe replies insisting that he is fine and Caspar need not worry about him.

Caspar does worry, though, his eyes laden with shock and sadness and concern when Joe opens the door for him that evening. 

“God, Joe you look awful.” Caspar tells him as he lets himself in. He cannot help himself from saying the words. Joe needs to sleep. “I’m sorry I dragged you onto your feet to let me in.”

Joe shrugs. Really, he is glad Caspar decided to come.

Caspar closes the door, leans down to Joe so he is level with him, places one hand on his shoulder, one on his forehead, checking his temperature like his mother might. 

“God you’re hot.” Caspar says, withdrawing the hand on Joe’s forehead.

“Why thanks mate.” Joe says, grinning, blushing. The croak in Joe’s voice as he speaks is so terrible it is hard to ignore.

Caspar rolls his eyes and stands up straight again, “I mean your temperature dumbo. You’re burning up. Were you in bed when I got here, we can go and rest there for a while.” He turns to go but stops when Joe does not move.

“Are you sure?” Joe croaks out. It hurts to speak, “Didn’t you have a date tonight? Celebrations with everyone?”

Caspar shrugs, walks back over to him, “Nothing is more important than your health, alright?” He brushes Joe’s slightly greasy hair from his face. He hates seeing Joe so pale, fragile. He is burning up, but shivers under Caspar’s touch. Joe nods briskly in response to Caspar, too exhausted and dazed to argue. He turns to go back to bed.

Joe is reluctant to let Caspar hold him, is afraid he’ll give Caspar his bug. It is only the flu, or a chest infection, or something. It is not like he will be sick or anything, but he does not want to pass it to Caspar. Caspar’s insistent he does not mind, ‘your health is more important’, he repeats and repeats until Joe gives in, falls into Caspar’s arms because he is ill and exhausted and it has always been too easy to fall against Caspar.

When Joe wakes up hours later, he is still in Caspar’s arms. He feels a little better, but knows the moment he opens his eyes he is going to have a pulsing headache. He remains still for a while, cuddled against Caspar’s body. As he lays there he cannot help but think what it would be like to wake up to Caspar like this every morning (well, besides the illness part). What it could be like if Caspar moved back in, if they kissed one another in the morning and one went down and made tea or coffee or hot chocolate, then brought it back to bed, so they could spend the morning huddled together watching youtube videos in bed.

Joe finds himself smiling at the thought, though knows it can never happen. Not unless he can finally tell someone, or if Caspar can finally wait for him. He keeps his eyes closed, presses himself closer into Caspar’s side, arm around him. He drifts back into a dozy sleep.

He wakes up a little later to Caspar sitting up. Joe moves too, rubs his eyes, body stiff, though from illness or barely moving all night he is uncertain.

“How are you feeling?” Caspar asks, voice so gentle and soft. His arm is still loosely wrapped around Joe’s body, behind his back.

Joe shrugs. Now his eyes are open he does have a headache, but it is not as bad as he had thought. “Better.” He coughs. Throat still hurts though, voice still croaky. He could do with a drink. “Still bad, but not so much.”

“Do you want to stay in bed today? I’ll keep you company.” Caspar tells him. It is like all his promises about them ending, and all their unspoken boundaries have been thrown out the window now Joe is suddenly ill. 

“Caspar.” Joe’s voice comes out part laugh, part sigh and mostly croak. “You have things to do, a girlfriend to apologise to for missing a date, places to be. I’m fine.”

Caspar shakes his head, studies every part of Joe’s face. Joe’s used to that, Caspar always takes in every little part of him. It makes him shiver so he looks away.

“I should probably shower.” Joe says, still looking away because Caspar’s face is near his and he can’t risk looking at him, “My hair feels rank.”

Caspar’s quiet for a moment, but Joe knows he’s still watching him. Joe does not dare look at him, can picture the look in his eyes without seeing it for real. “I’m not even going to argue with that.” Caspar says gently, accent still thick with the morning, there’s a tease in his voice that makes Joe laugh a little. 

Finally he looks at him. Caspar is so beautiful it makes his heart falter a little. Like his heart was skipping at a normal place and now it has tripped and lies tangled in the rope.

“Will you need help?” Caspar asks. Joe often wonders how he keeps his voice so gentle.

“In the shower?” Joe laughs a little again, looking away from Caspar in case his eyes make him say yes, “That’s never a good idea. I’ll be fine anyway.”

He glances back up and watches Caspar nod. Every part of Caspar burns with emotion. He leans forward to Joe, closes his eyes, kisses Joe’s forehead softly. Joe closes his eyes too, and like always, cannot resist leaning and falling into the touch.

“Please get better soon.” Caspar tells him quietly when he moves his lips away. They keep their faces close together for a while though, foreheads pressed together, leaning so heavily against one another, and Joe knows he should move away, should be careful not to breathe germs over Caspar, should be careful they do not kiss. He has to repeat that last point a few times. _They can't kiss_.

Caspar pulls away first, one hand on Joe’s legs. “Do you want breakfast?”

Joe shakes his head, cannot stand the thought of eating (even more-so than usual). “Just tea, green tea.” He says, getting out of the bed. He feels a little light headed but gets his bearings, leaves the room.

 

There’s tea waiting for Joe on the kitchen worktop when he gets out the shower, wrapped up in a couple towels, yet to get dried or dressed. He feels better, a little fresher and cleaner. He thinks his temperature has also gone down, thankfully. 

“Sure you don’t want food?” Caspar asks, helping himself to cereal. Joe does not mind, is still happy for Caspar to just be here. He shakes his head. No food, not yet. “Don’t starve yourself Joe.” Caspar warns. He is always there to take care of Joe’s eating habits. Or at least, he was.

“I’m not.” Joe promises, smiles up at him from leaning against the work top, tea clutched in his hands, body wrapped in a couple of towels. “Thanks for the tea.”

Caspar shrugs like it was nothing, maybe it  _is_ nothing for him. He is quiet for a moment as he chews on a mouthful of cereal. 

“Do you have any medication?” Caspar asks a moment later, swallowing a mouthful. Joe nods, and looks over towards the coffee table where his medicine sits in a bag from the doctor’s. “Do you need some?”

Joe nods, “It’s okay, though. I’ll do it.” Joe promises, “You should go soon.” He adjusts his towels around his body as he feels them slipping. He feels suddenly cold.

Caspar finishes his cereal, puts his bowl and spoon in the sink and starts running the water.

“Will you be alright, though?” Caspar let’s the water run and looks up at Joe. It’s that same tone where he wants _the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth_.

Joe nods, honestly. “I think so. You should not have even come in the first place.”

Caspar shakes his head, walks over to Joe and cups his face. Joe thinks of pulling away, but does not.

“If you think I was going to leave you here and not check up on you after everything I ever-“ Caspar shakes his head, closes his eyes. This stuff is hard for him too sometimes. “I’m always here for you, okay? Always.”

Joe looks at him. Caspar is so close, eyes full of blooming, wild emotion, it is hard not to try and kiss him. Joe just nods, throat too tight to speak. He is glad when Caspar drops his hands and moves away. Joe gets the feeling Caspar wants to say something else but the blonde remains silent, standing there until he remembers the water is still running.

His washes up voluntarily. Joe does not stop him, knows that Caspar washing up just prolongs his stay. When he has cleaned the bowl and the spoon, at a very slow pace, and left it on the rack to dry he walks back over to Joe.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” Caspar says. He is close again, using the same soft tone again that he uses when he wants to hold Joe’s hands, still does not hold them though. Joe nods once more, even without his sore throat, he would say nothing. “Text me if you need anything.”

He kisses Joe’s forehead again, like he thinks it is the only acceptable place to kiss your best friend (there is no acceptable place to kiss a best friend, not with their past anyway).

There is still a phrase left hanging in the air when Caspar leaves the room, gets his coat and leaves through Joe’s front door without calling goodbye. Joe thinks about the phrase and the fact it is always on the tips of both their tongues. He sips his green tea. It burns his mouth, cuts his already beaten throat as he swallows.

/

“It’s late, Joe.” Caspar tells him as he stands on the doorstep to Caspar and Josh’s apartment.

Being woken to a text at three am was not how Caspar expected his morning to go. Not when it’s one from Joe saying that he’s outside and can he come in.

“Is she here?” Joe asks, dismissing Caspar’s statement and pulling on the sleeves of his hoodie.

Caspar is looking less happy around his girlfriend lately. There’s always a tension around them, all their friends can feel it. It is nothing like before. Oli had said that it is ‘just their honeymoon phase ending’. Joe thinks it may be more than that, thinks Caspar never really leaves honeymoon phase when he is truly in love (of course he would know, though).

“She’s not.” Caspar replies, nonetheless not making a move to let Joe in. Even though they both know he will eventually, else he would not have answered the door.

“Just once?” Joe asks, “I promise I’ll leave before anyone else wakes up, I just.” Joe takes in a shaky breath, “I want you to hold me.”

Caspar can never say no to Joe at the best (worst) of times. He stands aside and lets Joe in, before closing the door as quietly as he can.

Joe follows Caspar to his bedroom in silence, not wanting to wake Josh, or anyone else who may be sleeping here (Joe rarely knows who’s living with who anymore).

“Clothes on, or off?” Joe asks him. He knows Caspar is in only his underwear, but is unsure where he stands.

“Whatever, Joe.” Caspar replies, turning his back on him in the bed, as though annoyed he is here. Maybe he is.

Joe cannot help but keep only his underwear on. This may be the last time in forever that he and Caspar share a bed, cannot resist the opportunity of skin on skin contact. He climbs in beside him, stares at Caspar’s back for a few moments.

“Caspar.” He says quietly, waiting for him to turn round, to hold him because he needs that.

Caspar turns round after a moment and looks at him. He is quiet for a while, does not go to hold Joe, even though he knows that is what Joe needs. 

“She doesn’t think that I’m the one either.” Caspar says eventually.

He is talking about his girlfriend, obviously. Joe remembers Caspar telling him she is not ‘the one’ that day in the Public, London Cafe, that she is ‘just someone’.

“Is that such a bad thing?” Joe asks. But he thinks then that maybe it is. Because if Caspar breaks up with his girlfriend, there’s nothing stopping them from ending. And even though it is like a stab in the chest every time they are together, Joe thinks that is better than what they had before. It will start the cycle of them all over again, no stopping it. Joe does not want that to happen. Not really.

Caspar just shrugs. He knows what Joe is thinking. It is everything he is thinking too. He looks at Joe for a little longer, he rarely sees him like this now, lying up close to him in the dark, tired eyes gazing up at him. The last time was months ago when Joe was ill, and that was different because, well because Joe was ill then.

He turns and lays on his back, lets Joe cuddle into his side. He has to admit he has missed holding Joe as he falls asleep. Joe presses himself against Caspar, suddenly desperate for the skin on skin contact he is so often deprived of. He lets his shoulders drop, let’s his whole body relax. Closing his eyes welcomes him to sleep almost instantly.

 

When Joe awakes the sun is barely up, the room still dark blue like the sky. He and Caspar have fidgeted in the night, and now he is pretty much on top of Caspar, breathing into his shoulder. He does not want to get up. Knows he should though. Knows he must. 

Before he gets up he kisses Caspar’s shoulder, cannot resist it. It has been a while since kissing Caspar anywhere. Then he slides off Caspar’s body, gets out the bed and collects his clothes from the floor.

As he dresses, Caspar stirs.

“Where are you going?” He mumbles sleepily, rolling onto his stomach and sprawling his arm across the bed as if reaching for Joe to come back. Caspar notes the other side of the bed smells of Joe’s cologne, now, and part of him hopes the scent does not last too long there, another part wants it to linger forever.

“My house.” Joe replies, careful not to use the word home. He never does when Caspar’s around, just a habit really. “I can’t have people waking up and finding me here.”

“But you’ve only been here a few hours.” Caspar complains, nonetheless not moving from his position in the bed. Knows Joe should go too. Knows he must.

“I know.” Joe says, voice regretful, soft. “I know but... you know I can’t.”

“I’ll see you later right?” Caspar asks, giving in, because yes, he knows Joe can’t, “Everyone’s coming round later.”

“I guess. Everyone includes her right?” Joe checks, straightening the creases on the hoodie he wore when arriving.

“Yeah.” Caspar replies, dragging the word out as though it will make it less painful for Joe, “But you’ve got to come. It will be weird otherwise.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll come. She never stopped me before.” Joe assures him, even though the thought fills him with dread, “Goodnight Cas.”

Caspar smiles weakly, “Night Joe.”

Joe leaves as quietly as he came.

/

Caspar opens the door to Joe and Byron when afternoon comes around. He smiles softly (somehow even softer at Joe) and let’s them in.

Byron never seemed to notice Joe went out last night. He never said anything anyway, and Joe’s worked out, over the few months of living with him, that he is a pretty heavy sleeper. Joe found himself wondering if maybe Caspar suggested Byron stays with him just to set them up, so Joe can move on, ‘find someone’ he had said that day, months ago, in the Public London Cafe. But Byron is depressingly straight, even if Caspar does know Joe’s taste in men like he knows his taste in coffee (a little too accurately).

A few people are already there, Oli, Josh (but he lives there) and Caspar’s girlfriend, of course. When Caspar has let Joe and Byron in he goes straight back to her, sits so close to her he is nearly sitting on her. She likes it though, smiles and turns to him. Joe looks away before he sees what happens next. He turns to Oli, finds small talk to make between he and Byron.

When they all arrive, Jack and Mikey and Conor all turning up together, Joe offers to help Josh in the kitchen with drinks. He is glad to be out of the living room, it is stuffy and chattery and loud with sounds of mostly Caspar and his girlfriend, voices, laughs, kisses. He is happy to help Josh.

Though there is no wall between the rooms, it’s significantly quiet over by the sink and the work tops. He watches Josh drag a large pack of beers from the fridge.

“Joe, what happened last night?” Josh asks, perhaps way too casually, way too curiously as opposed to accusatively.

For a moment Joe is too stunned to speak or think. Then a wave of shock rushes over him like he is drowning, paralysed. He tries to recover, spluttering through his words, “What are you talking about?”

Josh stops tearing open the pack of beers, looks at Joe. He did not have to explain, knows Joe knows, but he does, anyway, like he is rubbing it in. “I heard Caspar get up at about three, heard him open the door and close it again. I was tired, didn’t think much of it, thought maybe it was his girlfriend, went back to sleep. But I woke a bit later to go to the loo. And I checked on him, just, curious. And you were lying on top of him, Joe, clothes sprawled on the floor. So what happened?”

Joe thinks he must be a disgusting shade of reddy-pink, his whole body feels likes it is alight. For a second he forgets to breathe. “Nothing.” He says eventually, and it is true, really, they just slept last night. But his voice comes out strangled and it makes Josh think he is lying. 

“It didn’t look like nothing. How can it be nothing? You just came round at three am for a cuddle? Doesn’t sound like nothing, Joe.”

Joe’s brain screams at him as he tries desperately to find an excuse, manages to stammer one, “Sometimes I have ideas in the middle of the night and need someone to talk to about them.”

Josh still cannot be convinced, “But you live with Byron.”

“But he’s not Caspar!” Joe finds it hard to keep his voice down and hidden behind the chattering in the other room, hard not to cry, or scream. He pauses and takes a breath to save him from screaming the words, keeping him whispering because no one else can hear this, “I’m used to telling Caspar ideas and shit, always did in our old place.” The weird thing is, that it is not even a lie.

Josh closes his eyes, as though it still makes no sense but he dare not touch upon the other explanation, the one it really, really looked like. “Fine, I’m sorry. It just, looked weird. You know what you looked like, right?”

Joe nods stiffly, and it feels like taking a huge breath after finding air above a wave. After being pulled from deep waters, after drowning. “I’m just going to the bathroom.” He mutters, knowing he needs to take a few more breaths, like after drowning.

No one seems to notice Joe rushing towards the bathroom, except for Caspar. Of _course_ except for Caspar. Caspar notices and rips himself abruptly from his girlfriend’s touch. She frowns at him, confused, blue eyes flooding with concern, or offence, Caspar does not stick around to work it out, stands up, smiles at her weakly, and walks out to the kitchen.

Josh is still busying himself with the beers. He smiles up at Caspar. Caspar does not return it.

“What did you say to Joe?” He tries to keep calm, tries not to sound angry, tries not to shout.

Josh looks up at him, places a beer down on the counter, “Nothing.” He assures him, smiling, “He just needed the loo.”

“I know when Joe’s stressed or upset, Josh.” He replies, voice stern and cold. He watches Josh’s smile fall.

“I just said I saw him here last night. Cuddled into you like some kind of... I don’t even _know_ Caspar!”

Caspar feels a wave of dread too. He sighs, looks away from his friend, briefly, “And you didn’t think to tell me first, _this morning_?!”

Josh shrugs. “Does it matter?”

It does matter. It really, _really_ matters. _How can Josh think it does not matter?!_ Caspar huffs, walks away from him and through their apartment to the bathroom. He pauses outside the door, then knocks softly.

“Joe? Can I come in?” His words are quiet, calm, calmer than he feels at least.

He waits a while, ear pressed to the door until he hears movement, hears the sound of the lock clicking. He waits a second before opening it, slowly.

Joe is perched on the toilet seat, head in his hands like he’s hiding. Caspar walks in, slowly still, shuts the door with his back, turns the lock. When Joe hears the lock click shut he finally looks up, drops his hands to his lap.

“Does he know now? Has he worked it out? Does everyone know? Have I messed everything up?”

In a hurry Caspar is kneeling in front of Joe on the bathroom floor, “It’s all fine.” Caspar tells him. He uses that tone where he often takes Joe’s hands, and this time, he does, hesitantly squeezes their fingers together like it counts for something, “He doesn’t know, hasn’t said anything if he does.” His voice is so gentle, Joe finds he can calm.

He lets out a breath, it’s shaky and heavy but it is breathing. “I’m sorry.” Joe tells Caspar, eyes finding safety and refuge when he meets with Caspar’s. “I shouldn’t have come last night I just, missed you.”

Caspar shakes his head, leans forward a little and tightens his grip on Joe’s hands, “It’s fine Joe.” He promises. He is looking at Joe as though entire worlds are in front of him. It makes Joe flush and squirm under his gaze, afraid he will make a mistake and kiss him, maybe.

They sit quietly for a while. Joe lets Caspar hold his hands, does not pull away, maybe because it is too hard to, too easy to grip tighter. It is all always too easy with Caspar. Maybe Caspar is his common ground all along, even if they got a little unsteady in between. 

“Are you alright now?” Caspar asks softly, causing Joe to look up from his lap where their fingers cling to one another like letting go will end universes. Caspar watches as Joe nods, relaxes his shoulders as he does so. “I promise it’s okay, Joe, no one knows, no one’s mad or angry. It’s just like always.”

Joe nods again, cannot help but hold Caspar’s hands tighter when he goes to pull away.

“Caspar I-“

Caspar hushes him quickly, nods, squeezes his fingers tighter still, “I know.” He says, “Me too.”

Slowly, he lets his fingers drop from Joe’s, slightly clammy now from the tight grip. Neither mind though. As he stands, he presses his lips to Joe’s forehead again, as though it has become a habit, a promise, a reassurance.

Then he moves away. “Do you want to stay in here a little longer?” Caspar asks before leaving.

Joe nods, but does not look at him. He hears Caspar walk towards the door, hears him unlock it, open it and walk out. As the door clicks shut Joe lets out another rugged breath, gets up and looks at himself in the mirror above the sink.

/

After a minute or so, and a splash of water in his face to cool him down, he leaves the bathroom, rejoins the others in the lounge. Josh goes out and gets him a beer from the kitchen, hands it to him with apology written in his eyes. Joe just nods, feeling uncomfortable and nervous like Josh really has worked it out.

He finds himself with Oli. It is always good to be with Oli, talking, laughing, pretending everything is funny, letting the world balance out again. He is still afraid though, the constant itch at the back of his mind that maybe, at any moment, Josh will turn around and say, ‘I’ve worked it out’ and catch he and Caspar out like deer trapped in the gaze of headlights. The thought makes him dizzy, a little light headed, and one glance at Caspar and the way his girlfriend leans into him to plant a kiss on his cheek, has Oli leaning close to him, hand on his shoulder. 

“Mate are you okay?” He asks gently, nervously.

Joe snaps his head up to look at him, forces a smile and nods, “Yeah, I think I, just need some fresh air.”

He stumbles over to the doors that lead out onto Caspar’s balcony, opens them with slightly shaky hands. Already the breeze once the door is opened touches his skin and pulls him back to reality, to calm again. He stumbles out, leans against the hand rail of the balcony, appreciates it to no end when Oli stands beside him.

Oli does not press on what is wrong, does not say a word for a moment but Joe knows that he is watching him. He can feel the concern in Oli’s eyes boring into the side of his face. Joe hates the fact that all he is thinking about is Caspar and his girlfriend and how he wishes more than anything, suddenly, that it is he who can sit in Caspar’s arms like that, can kiss his cheek like that, can make him happy like that. Because he only made Caspar sad, never happy, not really. He wipes a tear briskly from below his eye and hopes Oli does not mention it.

Joe always felt that if he were to really tell anyone, it would be Oli he would begin with. Because Oli would know exactly what to say and how to say it and when. And he would never laugh or ask if he were being pranked because he knows that that is a prank Joe would never ever do. And Oli would hold him and tell him everything is okay and that it will all still be the same as always and Joe knows he needs to hear that. 

He could tell him.

Right now. Two words and he would have done it. Two words to one person and Caspar may change his mind and wait the tiny bit longer. Two words and Caspar could be his again. Two words and Oli would know. If only those words did not feel like acid on his lips. If only those words did not burn a whole in Joe’s mind and Joe’s chest and cause his whole body to freeze up. If only he did not feel as though he were going to be sick. His stomach churns. 

Maybe one day he would feel brave enough to say it. And maybe one day he will utter those two words to Oli. Maybe. But not today.

“Joe are you okay?” Oli asks eventually, “You look a little ill. Would you like me to help you home, you really don’t look good.”

Joe shakes his head. He is fine, will be fine. “It’s okay, really, just need the air.” He goes over to the small garden table and places his untouched beer on it. Then he shrugs off his leather jacket, tossing it onto the table and letting the late winter breeze tickle his skin, claw at him until he feels something that is no longer fear or some kind of heart ache.

“Are you sure?” Oli asks. He looks at Joe again, squinting almost as though it will help tell how well Joe really his. Like he is searching for the hidden image that explains Joe's weird behaviour. Then he relaxes all of a sudden, goes all gentle, “Come here.” He opens his arms out, beckoning Joe.

There has always been something about Oli. Something about how he always knows that something is wrong, and something about how he always knows how to fix it. Joe is sure they have a telepathic connection. He opens his arms too, wraps them around Oli’s body and lets his friend hold him. Joe had not realised how much he really needs this, the support, even if Oli does not know why it is so needed, what matters is that he simply knows it is.

“It’s okay mate, it’s okay.” Oli whispers, gently and all soft and warm like the person he really is. Oli rocks them side to side a little, hugs Joe tight enough that he could cry.

He should tell him.

He cuts the thought out his mind though because he knows that, while in Oli’s hold like this, he may tell him too. Or just cry and cry until Oli makes him tell. He is all too scared and just thinking the words makes it all too real.

Eventually Joe pulls away, embarrassed and shy and flustered. “Thanks.” He says anyway, even if the word is only uttered to the breeze.

Oli lets his arms slips from Joe’s shoulders slowly, his hand giving Joe a slight squeeze of reassurance before dropping it.

“It’s kind of chilly do you want to go in now?” Oli asks, and Joe can feel him bite back all the ‘what’s wrong’s and ‘you can talk to me’s. He is glad Oli does that.

Joe shakes his heads leans back against the balcony and stares into the wind, out at the rush of life and London and people below him. “You go if you like, I’ll be in in a minute.”

In his peripheral, Joe can see Oli nod, “Okay, don’t be long.”

As Joe hears the door click shut his head swims with guilt and regret.

He missed the perfect chance to tell him.

/ 

When Joe has been back inside for a little while, his back to Caspar and his girlfriend, who are not kissing anymore, nor cuddled on the sofa, but just them standing next to one another makes Joe’s heart squeeze with some kind of sadness, everyone decides to go out to a club.

Joe does not mind, how can he? Only Caspar’s girlfriend has decided she wants to come along this time. And god Caspar seems only too happy to hear her say it. He does not look at Joe once, keeps his eyes on her instead, almost focing himself not to look away. They walk out the apartment, arms around each other.

Joe hangs back a little as everyone begins to leave, and is glad when Oli is by is side.

“I could just take you home Joe?” Oli offers, a gentle and tentative hand on his shoulder to provide some sort of comfort. Joe is grateful for it.

“I’m fine.” Joe says. And _god_ he really should tell him.

But they are all loud and bubbly and chatty as they all gather in the lift to leave Caspar and Josh’s apartment. Joe looks at the floor the whole time, forever wondering if he should tell Oli, or even if Oli has already worked it out. How can no one have worked it out? Then he thinks of Josh too, and how surely he must know there is something he and Caspar are not saying. He looks over at him, and Josh meets his eyes and smiles, and that is all, as though he had forgotten earlier already.

There are always plenty of bars and clubs to choose from near Caspar’s apartment, but they quickly bustle into one that they know is fairly decent and order their first round of drinks.

For a while he is by Oli’s side, trying to look away from Caspar but it is always hard not to look at him, because Caspar is so beautiful, and his voice is often so loud and attention-seeking that Joe has to look at him, would be impolite not to.

After a while, Jack is by his side too. He always seems to lean towards Jack by the time he is slightly tipsy, because he knows Jack will flirt, or touch him, look at him with dancing eyes and it is the perfect and most beautiful distraction Joe has ever seen. And today he needs it even more because every time he looks over at Caspar, he is kissing his girlfriend, or hugging her, whispering in her ear from behind her and making her laugh.

And so as the night progresses, and any cameras go away, Joe cannot end up in Caspar’s arms, so settles with Jack’s. And he does not end up leaning against Caspar on the way to the taxi, does not get help from Caspar getting in, because he is with her and Joe is with Jack, and maybe that is the way it should be. 

In the car Joe feels weird though, almost voices the thought and the absence of Caspar because he rambles when he is drunk. Still, he bites back this thought, still sweaty with fear at the thought of telling. He leans against Jack but Byron sits the other side of him, because the three all live in the same apartment block so of course they would get the same taxi there.

Byron pays the driver and Joe and Jack get out, Joe giggling because he stumbles a little leaving the car, and Jack has to catch him.

They all walk to the lift together, get in together, Joe touching Jack’s arm the whole time like he may fall if he let go. In the lift he looks up at Jack, who looks mildly hazy and blurred from the alcohol in his system, but he is beautiful and gorgeous all the same. When the lift clicks at Jack’s floor, Joe stumbles out with him.

“I’ll say bye to Jack, you can go Byron.” Joe tells him, because Byron has a key and he can use it and Jack is right here, all warm and handsome and full of grins and smiles, and Joe cannot help but think, _maybe_.

Jack wraps an arm around him, once the lift doors close and leave them alone in the corridor, away from Byron and everyone. Joe stumbles to keep his balance, leans against Jack more, laughs as they walk drunkenly down the corridor. They reach Jack’s apartment like they are in a dream world, finding themselves at a place but not recalling the journey.

“Guess this is goodnight, Joe.” Jack tells, him, removing his arm from Joe’s shoulders and facing him.

Joe leans against Jack’s door to keep himself balanced. “Yeah.” But he is looking at Jack’s lips and wondering if they would taste anything like Caspar’s, or if he may feel the same from kissing them. He wants to try. Caspar found someone, and Caspar told him to find someone. And here is someone, staring him right in the face, confused.

“Are you okay, Joe?” Jack asks, pushing up Joe’s hair because it is long and falls too often in his eyes. It causes him to lean close though, and he hears Joe’s breath hitch and that is when he realises, “You want...”

He trails off and watches as Joe nods hesitantly, shortly, like he is afraid to admit it. And he is, even under all the alcohol in his system, so, so afraid. Jack is not afraid though, flattered instead, surprised, always used to dreaming up the idea Joe may actually act on the drunk flirting one day, and thinking he would not turn down the offer if he did.

It is unclear who leans in first, but the first thing Joe notes is that it is a smaller gap than he and Caspar, because Jack is not tall like Caspar, and there is no need for tiptoes or pulling the other person down. So their lips meet almost quicker than expected, but Joe does not mind, thinks that Jack’s lips are nice and taste good on his. 

Jack pulls away after a few moments, and Joe cannot help but think that that is a tease because Jack is a good kisser but left him with barely two seconds of touch.

“You want to come in?” Jack asks, and Joe nods hurriedly before thinking much about it, desperate suddenly to feel Jack’s lips on his again, fear apparently dissipated, or maybe it is just the alcohol taking over his pounding heart.

Jack opens and closes his door quickly, pulls Joe over to him the moment they are inside the apartment, kissing him again. And Joe let’s him because it feels nice and it has been so long since doing this, and maybe it is not comparable to Caspar but it is still good and perfect and Jack makes him lose his breathe so quickly.

He pulls away to catch his breath, still close to Jack but thinking. Because _yes_ Jack is beautiful, and his smile is like butter melting and glowing, all soft and blurred up close, but he is never Caspar and Joe cannot push that thought away. So when Jack leans in again he jerks his head backwards, moving away.

“I’m sorry.” Jack says hurriedly, dropping his fingers from Joe’s body, “Was it too much, we don’t need to do anymore if you-“

“No it’s just.” Joe starts to laugh a little, “My head is spinning.”

Jack nods, realising suddenly that Joe is surely too drunk to do this. Knows that Joe often yearns for touch when he is drunk but always rejects it sober (unless it is Caspar but that is different and everyone knows it). He knows sober Joe would never kiss him. He pulls himself away from Joe and goes into his kitchen, grabs a couple glasses from the cupboard and fills them with water from the tap.

“Let’s sit on the sofa, Joe, come on.” He puts the drinks on the coffee table, watches carefully as Joe walk lazily across the room and flop down onto the sofa. He takes the drink when Jack hands it to him, sips it, grimaces.

“It’s water.” He complains.

“Yes Joe drink it. You know you need it.”

Joe does need it. He downs half the glass. He turns and looks at Jack, wanting to say something but his head is loud and wild and thinking about telling him everything about Caspar, so instead he says nothing. 

“You wouldn’t kiss me sober, Joe.” Jack says. He has sat down beside Joe, close but not so much that they are touching.

Joe nods. He thinks of the two words and they swirl and swirl and do not go away. “I’m,” He closes his eyes, takes a breath that feels like a wave washing over him, drowning him. Shakily, he exhales, breathes the second word out like smoke, “Gay.”

Jack blinks. He smiles. “Well yeah, you just kissed me Joe.”

Joe does not smile. He does not cry though, like he thought he might, just feels like a weight has left him, feels tired and empty. “But I... Caspar.” He manages to blurt out, and Jack has a look of realisation then.

Jack sits up in the chair, as though the conversation suddenly peeked an interest, “You and Caspar?” And of course, _of course_ it all makes sense now, of course they have history, of course they are in love, how could he not see it before? How can no one have seen it before?

Joe nods slowly, “Please don’t tell.” He gushes, “No one knows, because I was always too scared and he got tired of waiting, tired of me pushing him away from cuddles, tired of me pulling my hand from his in public, tired of me acting like the whole thing is awful, and I did. I really did treat it like I hated us when we weren’t alone and-"

“Woah, woah, Joe it’s alright.” Jack says, cutting him off, worried, suddenly, that Joe will regret every second of this tomorrow, “Tell me in the morning, okay? You can stay here, I’ll text Byron.”

Joe wants to argue but he finds himself nodding, then yawning, “I’ll sleep on the sofa.” He mumbles.

Jack nods, stands, room still a little glittery and blurry but he manages to text Byron that Joe is staying, and he manages to make it to his room, in his wardrobe where there are blankets. He brings them back to the living room to the sofa, drapes the blankets over a dozy, almost asleep, Joe. A friend who’s head is spinning from so many demons and so much fear that alcohol barely makes a difference. Jack smiles softly as Joe falls asleep quickly, but so calmly. He falls asleep like someone sighs.

He turns and goes to his own bedroom, thinking about Joe, and then Caspar, and then remembering, suddenly, Caspar’s girlfriend and wondering what it all means.

/

When Joe wakes up, he feels heavy, like he’s guilty, like he’s done something wrong. All at once he remembers Jack and how he kissed him and how he said those _two words_. Then his head pulses and thumps. He rolls from his back and onto his side on the sofa, keeping his eyes closed for a few moments. Head still hurts.

Reluctantly, knowing he is not going to fall back to sleep, he sits up, holding his head, eyes still shut tight, flickering open as he sits. When they adjust to the light and open, Joe gets up, goes into Jack’s kitchen, finds the painkillers in one of the cupboards. He downs a couple with one of the glasses left out from last night. Then he fills one for Jack, like Jack had done for him last night, and takes it, and the painkillers to Jack’s room.

Jack does not stir when he enters the room, and it almost surprises Joe, because Caspar always wakes at Joe’s presence. But Jack is nothing like Caspar, can never be Caspar, he realises.

He lets Jack sleep.

His head still hurts, throbs and burns so he collapses back onto Jack’s sofa, pulls the blanket back over him, wondering when the blanket had even appeared, does not remember Jack giving him one. He finds his phone, squints at the brightness of his screen and checks for texts. There is one from Caspar, long winded and definitely written with drunken hands.

_Joe im so sorry i hope you get home ok since i wsnt there . I couldnt tell her not 2 come had to let her but u looked like u were having fun with jack maybe u should be with him he could be ur someone goodnight joe ily xx_

Joe wonders whether to reply, but his head hurts and he cannot look at the phone much longer. He sets it down on the coffee table, thinking of Caspar and how he may react when he tells him what he did, what he said, what he _finally said_.

He leans back against the cushions on the sofa, closes his eyes because his head feels better from it. He dozes back into a light sleep.

Joe awakes again to Jack walking past him to the kitchen. His head feels better, does not throb when he opens his eyes.

“What’s the time?” He asks Jack tiredly, as though it’s suddenly a priority.

“Half eleven.” Jack says. He flicks on the kettle and walks out the kitchen and over to him. “How are you feeling?” He sits the other side of the sofa to Joe and looks at him.

Joe wishes he was talking about his _not-so-bad-anymore_ hangover. But instead he knows Jack is talking about what happened last night. “Okay. Weird.” He tells him. His fingers become interesting, suddenly, he picks nervously at the skin around his nails.

“Do you want to talk more about it?” Jack asks. His voice is gentle and smooth.

Joe shrugs. He does want to talk about it. It would be nice to tell someone, it would. But it has been so long he does not know where to start.

“There’s not much more to tell.” He says, although really that is not so true, there is always so much to tell, so much between them, he is sure he could never be out of things to get off his chest.

“Well, there’s Caspar’s girlfriend, for a start.” Jack suggests, noticing how badly Joe wants to speak but how he is just unsure how.

Joe nods, takes a shaky breath, “He didn’t want us to be a secret forever. Why do you think he already made a video about his girlfriend? He wanted to be out there with us and I was scared. I _am_ scared. And he, he tried he really tried but, he couldn’t wait forever. He wants me to move on too.”

Jack nods slowly, “So you’re both going to act like you’re not in love for the rest of your lives?”

Joe shrugs, “The more I kept everything hidden the worse it got.” There is a lump in his throat, full of fear and regret and heart break.

“Well you’ve told me. So that’s a start.” Jack reminds him.

Joe is still unsure. Still thinks he has messed everything up, maybe and Caspar will not want him back. Caspar is happier now.

“It’s too late.” Joe tells him, and his eyes shine with tears as he looks over at his friend.

Jack thinks for a moment, then shakes his head, “You and Caspar, I think you are meant to be. It’s all so obvious now, the way you look at each other, touch each other. Sometimes you speak to one another like you are talking in another language, and like you are on another planet because no one understands a word of what you are saying sometimes. And Caspar is never happier than when he is with you.”

Joe shakes his head, “He is happier with her.” He tells Jack, and he knows he is right because Caspar always smiles around her but he never smiles around Joe anymore because he messed it all up.

Jack pauses, and he thinks about how Caspar smiles around his girlfriend and how he has everyone convinced, “He still loves you Joe. Maybe things are difficult, and it makes it harder for him to be happy near you but that’s because he is hurting and because he wants you so much but he can’t.”

Joe listens to him but he cannot work out if Jack is right or not. Because he is sure that Caspar wants nothing more to do with him, now.

“He wants me to move on.” He says because that is what Caspar told him- ‘find someone’- he had said that day in the Public London Café.

“Because you can’t wait on this forever.” Jack says, “That doesn’t mean he no longer loves you. He does Joe, anyone could see it if they only looked.”

That almost worries Joe. He does not want people to see it. He is not ready for that and that makes his chest hurt with guilt because he will never be ready and Caspar has always been right about that.

When Joe does not reply Jack sighs, moves closer to Joe on the sofa and wraps an arm around him. “I’m proud of you, Joe, for telling me all this.”

Joe smiles a little, and strangely, he welcomes Jack’s touch. “It’s only because we kissed last night.” He says softly, “I don’t think I could have said otherwise, if you were... wait what about you though? Are you gay or?”

Jack smiles softly, “Bi.” He tells him, “Well or pan I guess they both fit.”

Joe does not really know the difference between the two, is barely sure there is one. He smiles and nods, realises it does not really matter.

“Thank you for helping me tell you.” Joe says eventually, “I’ve held all of it for so long.”

Jack just nods, removes his arm because he knows Joe is not all that fond of physical affection (except from Caspar, which makes so much more sense now).

/

Joe stays with Jack for breakfast, before hugging him and thanking him again for helping him open up. He feels so much better now, almost free, like Jack has found the key and freed him from his prison cell (or the closet, _yes Jack found the key to his closet_ ).

When he gets back to his own apartment, Byron is making himself breakfast. He smiles at Joe, says ‘mornin’ bro’ in that thick South African accent that always makes Joe feel giddy.

“Did you sleep well at Jack’s?” Byron asks. He’s frying bacon in a pan and it smells amazing.

Joe wonders for a moment if Byron is trying to imply something in the words. Maybe he saw too much when they were drunk last night, maybe Joe leaned against Jack and looked up at him a little too obviously. His heart misses a worried beat, but he realises Byron probably means it innocently enough, just wants to check up on how his friend slept.

“Yeah I’m okay.” Joe replies, “My hangover’s gone, anyway.” He realises it fizzled away somewhere between spilling out every secret he had ever had to Jack and eating a breakfast of plain cereal and milk at the kitchen worktop.

Byron offers him some bacon but Joe shakes his head. He remembers that Oli has a date later, one he is really excited for, and he said days ago he would go and help him get ready. Then he is thinking of yesterday and how he thought so much of telling him, ending up telling Jack later on. He wanted Oli to be the first person he told, but maybe he can be the second.

He showers and gets ready to see Oli, leaving Byron making his breakfast. On the way he rehearses what he will tell him, wondering how he can even start a conversation that has been put off for too many years.

He is at Oli’s door all too quickly. His hesitates at it before he knocks. He is really going to do this. He knocks, swallowing the nervous lump in his throat. His heart is beating and he hates it. He feels kind of sick. Just two words and the rest is easy. He tells himself.

Oli opens it almost a moment after, smiling, excited because he is going on a date. Joe wonders if this may be the wrong time to tell him.

_But he must._

“Hey Joe, come in.” He stands aside, let’s his friend in. “How are you, after yesterday?” He is talking about how drunk Joe was, or maybe how Oli thought he was ill yesterday. Oli did not drink much, did not want to be a mess for his date.

Joe shrugs. He is not really hungover anymore, but his heart is beating heavily. “I’m okay.” He swallows, forces the words out with a smile he thinks looks real.

Oli smiles back, “So my date is at one, what shall I wear?”

Joe swallows. He says nothing in reply to Oli, just looks at him. He is still standing near the door way, he could run away.

“Mate?” Oli asks, still smiling but there is concern in his voice.

Joe looks at him, in his eyes. He feels almost as though he cannot breathe. “I need to tell you something.” He says. This is really happening. His body feels almost paralysed. His head feels like it is pulsing, like all the blood has rushed up there.

Oli’s smile falls. “Okay, what’s wrong, are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s, I-“ He cannot find the words, the two he needs.

“Okay, come and sit down.” Oli guides him over to the lounge area, gestures him to sit down. Joe does, presses himself into the corner of the sofa and feels Oli sit next to him. Joe looks at his hands, small and clammy, fiddling with one another. “What is it?” Oli’s voice is quiet and worried.

Joe looks ahead of him, over to the wall opposite, then he looks down at his hands again, then at Oli. Oli looks a little fuzzy, because there are tears in Joe’s eyes. This was easier, with Jack, maybe because he was drunk or maybe because Jack likes guys too, or maybe simply because he is so much closer to Oli, and his reaction means everything.

He looks back at his fingers, opens his mouth to speak but it is dry and scratchy. He swallows again. His heart still hammers. Two words Joe, just two. It’s easy. He closes his eyes for a moment and a tear drips into his sweaty palms. He lets out a breath.

“I’m gay.” He says, finally. There it is, the two words, out in the air, out, to Oli. He looks over to him, eyes wide and afraid. Why is he so afraid?

“Joe.” Oli says it like a sigh, pulls Joe into a side hug, Joe’s head leaning on his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.”

Joe shuts his eyes tight, trying to force tears back. He leans against Oli, glad when Oli tightens his grip around him.

“How long have you known?” Oli asks softly, after a while.

Joe sits up again, from Oli’s arms and wipes his eyes. He thinks for a moment, “I guess I only consciously used the label when I lived with Caspar.” He winces, when he says his name.

“Caspar.” Oli repeats like a realisation, “Joe, do you, y’know, like him?”

Joe feels like he is being stabbed in the chest. ‘ _Like_ ’ is such a mundane word and everything with Caspar is so, so much more than that and it hurts so much. He looks over at Oli, eyes wide and desperate for Oli to fill in the blanks. His chest is so tight he cannot speak a word. He looks away, blinks only for more tears to patter onto his hands.

“Do you love him?” Oli asks then. He looks at Joe, the way he shrinks in on himself, the way his head hangs, the way his fingers twiddle with one another. Joe nods sharply. “Does he...” He has no need to finish the question. Joe nods.

Oli pulls him back into his arms again. He holds him so tightly, and Joe so wanted for Oli to tell him nothing has changed, that the two words make no difference but he realises Oli does not need to say them. The way he holds Joe says it all. It steadies Joe’s world.

“I kind of worked it out, you know.” Oli says softly. His date seems long since forgotten now. “Yesterday, on the balcony at Caspar’s. You looked so heart broken. And I wasn’t really sure why, you know, but then when we were out you kept looking at Caspar and he kept looking at you and you both looked, kind of angry.” Oli pauses and looks at Joe, his heart aching for his friend when he sees a tear slip down his face. He softens his voice, “I realise now you were both just jealous, because you didn’t want him to be with his girlfriend and he, didn’t want to see you with Jack.”

“With Jack?” Joe starts, sitting back up from Oli’s hold so his words are not muffled, “Why was he jealous of that?” But then he remembers how he always flirts with Jack, for the hell of it, and how he and Jack had kissed and how he told him everything. “I told Jack yesterday.” He continues before Oli can answer his question, “I wanted to tell you first, I was going to tell you on the balcony but I was scared, but Jack, I mean, I, kissed Jack and we were drunk and it was easier.”

“Joe slow down.” Oli touches Joe’s shoulder as a comfort. “It’s okay, I’m not upset that I’m not the first person you told. I don’t mind at all Joe. When did you and Caspar start?”

Joe feels butterflies in his stomach remembering. Caspar was always so open about himself, so casual. _‘Joe have you ever wanted to kiss boys?’ ‘Joe look how hot that guy is’_. Caspar always made it so easy to be himself. It is always easy around him. Until Caspar found it not as easy. Until Caspar wanted to tell the world and Joe had not even told his sister. Joe tells Oli everything, slowly. How he and Caspar first kissed, a little tipsy, in Joe’s bedroom at their apartment, how everything was new and sweet and exciting. How they started to argue when Joe was scared, how it was neither’s fault that they wanted different things. And how they moved out and Joe cried himself to sleep the night they made the decision, and how they still met, even after they moved out because they were- _are-_ in love. How Caspar never told him of his girlfriend, how it broke Joe’s heart in two when he found out.

When he has finished, he looks over at Oli. Oli had not said a word, only listened and nodded when he needed to, and patted Joe’s shoulder when he got to the sad parts. And now he knows everything and Joe feels a weight leave him, one he was so used to putting to one side, ignoring.

“I’m so glad you’ve told me, Joe.” Oli says, “I’m really proud of you.”

Joe nods, then his eyes widen, “Shit, what about your date?” Joe looks at his watch: _12:55._

Oli had turned his phone off, while Joe talked, and he turns it on hurriedly. “It’s okay.” He says, although he looks a little stressed, “If she’s nice and if we’re going to work, she’ll understand I was helping you.”

Joe hopes she understands, because Oli has been so excited for this, and he would hate to have ruined it for him. Joe watches Oli type out a hurried message, probably to the girl.

“Right, what do I wear?” Oli says, standing up and pocketing his phone. 

Joe thinks that is a ridiculous, mundane kind of question, after all they have just spoken about. He smiles,

“What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

He’s wearing a striped t-shirt and red trousers. Oli shrugs, “It’s a bit, basic, isn’t it?”

“Reflects you.” Joe grins playfully. He thinks it is kind of crazy, how normal everything is already. Oli frowns at him,

“But seriously, don’t you think I should change?”

Joe shrugs, “I dunno. Look, I may be gay but that doesn’t immediately make me a fashion expert.” He blushes, when he says it, and he does not know how he managed to say it so smoothly, like he has been out for years.

Oli grins at him, like he is also glad Joe can joke about it now, “You wanted to come and help.”

Joe sighs, rolls his eyes. “Well what have you got?”

Oli’s date tells him it is fine, if he is a little late, that she understands. And Joe picks out some nice trousers and a t-shirt to match a leather jacket. When Oli leaves it is ten past one. He says it is only a five minute walk to the restaurant where he is having the date, and thanks Joe for helping him. Joe almost laughs, says it is he who should be saying thank you.

They leave the apartment block together, part ways at the front, Oli heading to town, Joe heading to his own apartment.

His mind is like flooded, as he walks. He feels excited and relieved and euphoric, all the same feeling scared and rejected too. He wants to tell Caspar, immediately that he has told two people already, that Caspar doesn’t really need to wait anymore, that he is finally ready. He worries though, worries that Caspar does not want him like that anymore, or worried that they will not really work and it will all fall apart, fall to pieces, because he can never seem to make Caspar happy. Not like she does.

Byron is playing guitar when he enters the apartment. Joe does not disturb him, or let him know that he is back, instead heads outside, where he knows it is quiet and no one is listening. 

He sits down, calls Caspar before he can talk himself out of it. He listens to the phone dial, bouncing his legs up and down anxiously. He finds a mark on his trousers and pokes at it while the phone rings and rings. Then it stops ringing.

“Joe? Buddy are you okay?” Caspar’s voice sounds through the phone and Joe feels calm from hearing it. ‘Buddy’ implies he isn’t alone for the call though, else he would slip up and say ‘love’ or ‘honey’ or something.

“Who are you with?” Joe asks. His voice seems to tremble a little. When he tells Caspar, it will change everything.

“Oh, I’m at my girlfriends.” Caspar says. There is shuffling on his side of the line, Joe guesses he has gone somewhere more private. “Are you alright?” His voice is almost whispering, laced with concern that makes Joe’s heart lurch. 

Joe swallows. “Yeah, I, I didn’t realise you were with her. This can wait, it’s fine.”

“Why, what is it? I’m outside, she won’t hear.” He tells Joe. He pauses for a moment, then speaks in that _whole-truth-and-nothing-but-the-truth_ tone. “What do you want to tell me?”

Joe has never denied Caspar’s _nothing-but-the-truth_ tone, but there is a first time for everything and he thinks maybe it is not right to do this now. Maybe not right to do this ever, because it is just a way to get Caspar running back to him, and that is not what his coming out should be for, it should be for himself only, and it should have nothing to do with Caspar. _But it does and it has to_ a small voice in Joe’s mind says, but he ignores it, purses his lips together, chews on the lower one.

“Joe?”

Joe clears his throat, leans back in the seat. It was sunny when he left Oli’s but now a cloud passes over him, snatching the sun from his view, “Yeah, um. It’s nothing, really. It can wait, don’t want to ruin your time with her hey.” He sounds cheery, he is trying to, and he wonders if Caspar believes it or not.

“Are you sure?” Caspar’s voice, soft and warm presses through the phone. Joe grips his mobile tightly, closes his eyes.

“Y-yeah.” Joe replies, “It’s nothing special.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. But you know I’m always here, all ears and ready drop anything and everything for you, alright?”

Joe swallows. He knows Caspar is not lying in anyway and it should not really be like that, anymore, not now he has her. “Right.” He says nonetheless.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Caspar asks, “We’re all going for a meal, you’re coming, aren’t you?”

Joe forces a smile, runs a hand through his hair. “Course, I’ll see you there.”

“Bye Joe.” Caspar says, he sighs through the words, like he is reluctant to put down the phone.

“Bye.” He says, it is hard to hang up, with the phrase in the air left unspoken once again, but he manages it, somehow. 

As he pockets his phone, Byron appears at the back doors, slides them open. “Thought I heard you come back.” He says with a grin, “Who was on the phone?”

“Oh just Caspar.” Joe replies, “Just... making sure I’m coming out for the meal tomorrow.” The words _coming out_ can never be the same again and Joe feels nauseous after saying them. “Hey, I actually feel exhausted, I guess I didn’t get much sleep last night at Jack’s, I think I’m going to have a nap.”

Byron frowns, “Are you okay? Do you think you’re getting ill?” He asks.

He wonders if he should tell Byron too, it would be fair to tell him next, but his head is spinning and his heart is aching and he is tired of talking of feelings and tired of holding them all in. He feels like he may explode, may burst into tears and he needs to go to bed and cry for a while.

“I’m fine.” He forces his best possible smile, “Just fucking exhausted.”

He gives Byron a final, small and tight smile, and walks back inside, pads up the stairs and into his bedroom. He flops on the bed to cry for a while.

/

Joe does not speak to Caspar before the meal the following evening. And on the table at the restaurant, Joe sits at the end beside Oli, and Caspar is the other side of the table, beside his girlfriend. On the other side of her is Josh, Grant and Byron the other side of Caspar. The others sit next to Oli.

“Did you not tell him I know?” Oli whispers to Joe while Joe stares across the table.

Joe shakes his head, uncomfortable bringing up the topic around the others. “How did your date go?” He changes the subject quickly.

Oli smiles, “It was really good. She really didn’t mind me being so late, completely understood.”

“Why were you late, bro?” Byron chips into the conversation, looking up at Oli.

“Oh, I was talking to Joe about something.“

“I’ll tell you later, Byron.” Joe says, his heart feeling tight and nervous but he knows he should tell him, but he is nervous and he wonders if it is really worth it. Stupid, he thinks, it should be worth everything just to be yourself.

“O-kay, are you alright?” Byron asks him, concern in his voice like yesterday when he went for a cry (a nap, as far as Byron knows). Joe just nods briskly. 

They do not spend long choosing their meals and ordering, and they make small talk while they wait. Joe does not really engage in the discussions, instead he is watching Caspar, and his girlfriend, and the way she leans against him as she giggles. Caspar smiles back, all bright and goofy and it makes Joe’s heart burn.

“Joe are you alright?” It is Oli, looking over at him with slight worry, making Byron and Grant and Jack glance over at him.

He can feel his heart sink and closes his eyes. He _knows_ Caspar no longer wants him, that it is too late now, and it _hurts_.

“I’m fine.” He tells them all eventually, the whole table falling silent, watching him in concern. “Just need some air.”

His chair scrapes across the floor as he stands, and it is so loud in the quiet area of the restaurant that even a waitress glances their way. As he leaves, he meets Caspar’s eyes, eyes filled with a fear and sympathy Joe does not wish to think about. He hurries away from the table, through the restaurant and out the doors.

It is cooler outside, the sun just beginning to set, and the porch-like area outside the doors filters a breeze that flutters through Joe’s shirt. The cool air tugs tears from his eyes, making them roll down his cheeks. He wipes them away briskly, knowing men can cry but still not wanting to do so.

His eyes are closed as he hears the doors open, and his stomach flutters when he looks over to see Caspar. He cannot believe Caspar can still make him do that; can still make him feel like his stomach is full of butterflies.

“What’s wrong?” The blonde asks, stepping closer to Joe, voice soft and all _wanting the whole truth and nothing but_. It's so sincere.

Joe sighs, lips almost trembling as he swallows a lump in his throat. Caspar is so close to him, when he looks up and meets his eyes, and his heart sputters in his chest. Instinctively he wraps his arms around Caspar’s neck, buries his head in his chest. It is so, so easy to fall into Caspar’s arms like this and Joe always curses at that. But it must be so, so easy for Caspar too, because he wraps his arms, soft and long and gentle around his Joe’s small waist, holding him tightly.

“Please talk to me.” Caspar whispers against his neck. There is something so desperate and worried lying in Caspar's tone of voice that it makes Joe's stomach queasy.

After squeezing his eyes shut tight for a moment, he opens them, loosens his grip around Caspar’s neck and leaning back against the wall. They are still touching though, unsure if they can ever let go again.

He knows he must tell Caspar what he has done but he is almost scared of the change, the thought that it might not go well, or right, and they might eventually fall out of love, if they do things properly, supposing they even do that. He takes a breath.

“I told Jack and Oli.” He says eventually, eyes not moving from Caspar’s, letting himself drown in the soft blues and greys. He searches Caspar's face for a reaction.

Caspar’s lips twitch into a small smile, one where he is trying to hide a larger one, “What? What did you tell them?” Even though he knows, Joe knows he wants to hear him say it.

Joe bites his lip to keep him from smiling back, takes in Caspar’s face for a moment or so because he has not seen him up this close in too long. “That I’m gay.” The word is so much easier with Caspar, it sounds less scary and less of a big deal.

Caspar cannot hide his smile anymore, is beaming like the sun, “Say it again.” His face is pressed so close to Joe’s that Joe _knows_ he is going to kiss him.

“I told Jack and Oli that I’m gay.”

Not a moment after Joe utters the words, Caspar’s lips are on his. It must have been over a year since they kissed and Joe is motionless for a second, sparks seeming to leap in his stomach and shoot up his spine. It has been so long that he cannot push him away like maybe he should, pulls Caspar closer instead, hands in his hair, tugging his head down. Lips move hurriedly, all hot and wet and messy, all hands and tongue and mouth. They barely break apart to take in small breaths, too desperate and out of control to pull away, too all consumed in one another.

Caspar pulls away eventually, pecking Joe’s lips a couple times before leaving them completely. He rests his nose against Joe’s forehead, lips hovering over the smaller boy’s nose. They both keep their eyes closed, breath slow and intermingling.

“I’m so proud of you.” Caspar says quietly, lowering his head to brush their noses together.

Joe’s lips lift into a small smile, and one of his hands push Caspar closer, clutching the back of Caspar’s t-shirt.

“What’s going on?” A voice trembles.

So absorbed in one another were they, that they did not hear the restaurant door open, did not realise someone was watching. At the voice, they jump, suddenly, dropping their hands, Caspar stepping away, turning frantically to the doors where she stands.

Caspar’s girlfriend.

For a moment there is a silence, rich and loud with tension. Joe is looking at Caspar’s girlfriend, who looks between the two of them with tears in her eyes. Joe can almost see her mind spinning with confusion and he feels sick with guilt because he knows she has seen everything.

“It’s not what it looks like.” Caspar blurts after one still, uncomfortable silence.

His girlfriend lets out a crude laugh, “I have been behind that door for about two minutes, Caspar. So you’re telling me you didn’t have your tongue down his throat?”

Joe swallows and looks over at Caspar, heart pounding, feeling dizzy with shame. Caspar is quiet for a moment, he does not turn to look at Joe, but Joe can tell, from the side of his face, that he feels sick with guilt too.

“Babe I’m-“

“Don’t.” She says, her voice shaking, trying not to cry, “You don’t get to call me that anymore. I don’t, I still don’t understand, you’re gay?”

“No, no, I’m bi, I did like you, I do like you but-“ Caspar trails off and slowly, he turns from her to look at Joe for a moment.

“But you love him.” She finishes, and for the first time she turns and looks properly at Joe, who’s leaning against the wall, shrinking in on himself and feeling smaller than ever. Caspar looks over at him too, and his face softens when finally their eyes meet.

Caspar turns back to his girlfriend, “Yeah.” He utters in a whisper, a guilty, reluctant whisper. “But, I swear this is the only time we, we never, never kissed while we’ve been together.” He tells her, and Joe knows she must be wondering how it makes a difference, because he is wondering it too.

“What does it matter?” She asks, “We were a lie this whole time, you always loved him!"

“It’s complicated, love.” Caspar replies, voice all too calm, stepping forward only for her to step back.

She shakes her head and Joe watches a tear roll down her cheek. “I should have known.” She wipes away the tear with the back of her hand, “You talk about him _all the time_. You always look at each other without saying a thing yet you know what the other is thinking. He’s not like your other friends.” She takes a breath, shakes her head, “All those meetings you went to together, when you cancelled our night together after the match to look after him when he was ill, all you spoke of that day was _him_. When I watched you film that video, I knew something was off about that hug, when he edited all our photos together and put them around your room. The other day when you both disappeared together, and both left the bathroom one after the other.” She shakes her head, “How could I have not known?”

Caspar does not have excuses anymore, because what she has listed is not even all that they have done behind her back. He glances at Joe, then back at his girlfriend. “I’m sorry.” He says eventually.

His girlfriend just nods, “Me too.” She says, and her voice cracks as she does so. Then walks passed them both, heels clattering across the ground. She pauses and turns back, “Just to clarify, this is us breaking up, Caspar. And I won’t tell anybody, but I hope I never have to hear either of your names again.” Then she finally turns, walks away into the night, taking her phone out, probably to call a taxi.

Caspar does not look at Joe for a moment, but looks at the path in which his (now ex) girlfriend had last stood. Joe wonders what he is thinking. Eventually he turns back, forces a broken kind of smile which makes Joe’s chest burn. He can never makes Caspar happy, especially not now.

“I feel awful.” He says eventually, “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Joe’s heart sinks. Caspar does not want to be with him, “I’m sorry.” Joe says, though he is unsure what exactly he is apologising for.

“No, I just mean, I should have broken up with her first.” Caspar edges closer to him, brushes his fingers down Joe’s arm. It is gentle, and it makes Joe lean into the touch, because it has always been everso easy and now there is nothing to stop it. “I’m sorry I hurt you so much.”

Joe smiles a little, finds Caspar’s hand and links their fingers. “It’s okay.”

“Joe, I, I also told Josh, the other day after we all went out.”

Joe feels a wave flutter through his stomach, but he is not angry. 

“I didn’t want to,” Caspar continues, as though expecting Joe to be mad, “But Josh had figured it all out and I had to tell him. He was all ‘you won’t stop taking about Joe’, ‘You seem jealous of Jack’ and ‘Why was he really here last night, what’s going on’. So I told him.”

“It’s alright, Cas, I’m not mad.”

Then Caspar smiles, a real, bright smile and it makes Joe’s heart flutter because he _can_ make Caspar happy. He is tugged against Caspar’s chest suddenly, arms strong around him, held tightly. Joe closes his eyes and let’s Caspar rock them side to side.

“We should go back in.” Caspar says, pulling away and kissing Joe’s cheek.

"Should we tell them?” Joe asks, because questions about Caspar’s girlfriend will be asked, and they may as well get it over with.

“Do you want to?” Caspar asks, “Because I don’t want-"

“I do.” Joe cuts him off, “I do want them to know and...I’m ready.” Even though he is nervous and scared he knows this must happen.

Caspar smiles again, and Joe can never tire of it. He reaches his hand out for Joe to take, and, flushing, Joe takes it.

It is warmer when they go back into the restaurant. They hold hands loosely, and Joe worries there are fans, and drops his fingers from Caspar’s all together. He thinks Caspar understands, probably feels the same because he does not question it.

When they reach the table, all their friends are looking at them. Joe sits down in the spare seat next to Caspar, where his ex had once sat. Josh is on the other side of him, and Joe can feel him looking. There is a silence for a while, Oli, wordlessly, hands Joe’s plate of lukewarm food down to Caspar, who places it where Joe sits.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” Mikey asks, breaking the silence, apparently not feeling the tension at the table.

“We broke up.” Caspar replies, pushing the salad around his plate as though to distract himself from the eyes.

“Why, what happened?” Mikey continues. Joe wonders how he can be so oblivious to the atmosphere at the table.

Caspar glances at Joe, an ‘are you sure you’re okay with this’ kind of look in his eyes. Joe nods. Caspar puts down his fork, the clatter of it against the plate loud and almost echoing. He leans back in his chair.

“She saw me and Joe... kissing.”

There is a pause. A silence, for a second, then, from opposite corners of the table, there are eruptions of exclamations and surprise. Byron and Grant and Mikey and Conor, chiming in a chorus of, ‘What?!’, ‘kISSING?!’, ‘You kissed?!’ Then there is a long and thoughtful silence, Joe meets Jack’s eyes, and Jack nods, proud and pleased for them. Then he looks at Oli, who smiles at him like a proud big brother. He glances beside him, looking up at Josh who nods slowly, a ‘yeah I know’ kind of nod.

After the silence, questions all come at once, ‘When did this start?’, ‘So you’re gay?’, ‘Was she really your girlfriend?’.

Joe clears his throat, aware of the calmness in the restaurant, hopes no one is eavesdropping. “I’m gay.” He says, dropping his gaze down at his plate of food as he says it, does not wish to see the reactions. “Caspar’s bi, and we, well we were sort of together, when we were roommates but-“

“It wasn’t official, and, it all got confusing and we, I wanted to tell everyone, but Joe wasn’t ready and, it didn’t work. And yes my girlfriend was my girlfriend, which is why we haven’t, this is the only time I kissed Joe since being with her.”

“But, why did you kiss him?” Grant asks.

“I told him that, I told Jack and Oli yesterday.” Joe answers instead, looking at his friends across the table, who smile gently, warmly.

“It doesn’t make it right.” Caspar adds, “We shouldn’t have kissed and I shouldn’t have done that to her, but, I did, and she’s gone, so..."

Then there is a silence around the table once more. Joe glances at Caspar and gets the feeling he is upset about losing his girlfriend, and not just because he feels guilty. But she was there, a presence that must have kept him balanced, if in an illusion, and now she is no longer here, and he must be a little upset about that. And then Joe gets the sinking feeling he can never make Caspar truly happy, again.

He sits up in his char, “Anyway, can we eat now, I’m pretty sure my macaroni is stone cold.” He stabs a bit with his fork and eats it. It is lukewarm. “It is.” He confirms. Everyone smiles, small laughs cluttering the table, and then everyone resumes with their food and Joe thinks he can sort of breathe again.

Caspar nudges his foot up against Joe’s under the table, after barely a minute, though, and Joe’s not sure he can breathe again after all. It reminds him, briefly, of before. When they lived together and nothing had really happened, their feet would touch under the table, and Joe’s world seemed fly out of its orbit, because he knew what they were doing, and he knew what he was feeling, but he could not explain it and it scared him. Yet he poked Caspar’s foot back. And footsie under the table, ridiculous as it was, became natural.

And now footsie seems to pull his world back into orbit. The one where it is he and Caspar, and it will always be.

When they have finished their meals, Joe is glad, because the table is quiet and it is as though everyone has more questions but they’re too afraid to ask. Caspar puts an arm around Joe as they leave the restaurant, and it is nice, not to feel wrong about the touch but proud and almost embarrassed because suddenly this is a form PDA and it makes his stomach flutter, like someone struck a match inside of him and it’s sparks seem to tickle.

When they get to the taxis, they hesitate, and Joe looks at Caspar, and the shine in his eyes tells him he is thinking the same.

“Come back with me?” Joe says first, because in someway they should celebrate their coming out.

Caspar smiles at Joe, and it is a real, bright, warming kind of smile that makes Joe’s breath falter because he looks happy. “I’d love to.”

They are aware of the others watching them, a murmur of ‘so gross’ from Jack in which they ignore. Because they are both smiling, grinning, beaming widely, and Joe can’t get enough of Caspar looking at him like that, like he is _happy_. So happy.

In the taxi Joe sits in the middle, as usual, but he is glad this time because he can lean into Caspar, and once they are certain the driver does not know them, Caspar’s arm wraps around his shoulder, and Joe leans into him, a small smile on his face because he is here, cuddling Caspar, in public, with Jack and Byron also there, knowing exactly what the cuddle means and it is all okay.

They say goodbye to Jack when he gets out to the lift on his floor. Joe can feel his mind spin a little, when they do because last time this happed, he went with Jack. He kissed Jack. He pushes the thought into the back his mind, thinks about how Caspar has yet to remove his arm from around his shoulders, and how he can lean against him, with it so easy but also so okay.

The three (with Byron) are silent, as they walk down the corridor to their apartment, and they are quiet when they enter, besides the rustle of jackets hanging up by the door. Then they stand there, the three of them, Joe and Caspar beside one another, Byron sort of just, looking at them. He smiles.

“So, you’re boyfriends now?” Byron asks.

Joe can feel his cheeks burn, looks at Caspar. It was never official, before. Despite everything they had never been _boyfriends_ and now the thought makes Joe feel giddy, and fluttery and excited.

“Are we?” He asks quietly, shyly, sort of nervous with Byron listening because he is so used to them, when it is only them.

Caspar smiles, “You want to be?” Joe wonders how he shall survive being with Caspar when he smiles like _that_.

He finds himself nodding. “Of course I do.”

Caspar is grinning so widely and Joe knows it is cheesy but he really does look like a Cheshire cat. They both turn and look at Byron, beaming.

“Yeah, we’re boyfriends now.” Caspar says.And at some point his arm has slipped around Joe’s waist, and it just seems to fit there.

Byron smiles too, sort of like he’s amused at the awkwardness, or cuteness, or something. He nods, “Okay, well, I’m going to head to bed, I think, so, night. But I'm really happy for you guys.” He turns, walks down the hallway and into his room, closing the door.

When Byron has gone, Joe bites his lip, and looks up at Caspar. He cannot quite believe they are here, together like this, with their friends knowing that they are. His heart twists, knots over in excitement. Caspar looks back at him, his eyes glint and crinkle at the edges, wide dimples in his cheeks. 

“Boyfriends.” The way Caspar says the words, like he is happy and excited and in awe of it. The way he says it makes it sound like a magic spell, an enchantment, and _god_ does it work.

“Yeah.” Joe almost whispers the word, disbelief on his tongue and in his mind. “Boyfriends.” He loves the way the word slips off of his tongue, the way it feels on his lips, the way it sounds in his mind.

Caspar chuckles lightly, leans forward so his lips touch Joe’s forehead. He rests his lips right there, on the skin, and it is a familiar touch now, one that Joe closes his eyes too, remembering this is the only thing they did, to cross a line, when they were not together. And now they are, _together, together, together_ and his heart taps weirdly against his chest, like it’s a little offbeat.

“Should we go to bed?” Joe says softly as Caspar moves away. It is not late, really, only late evening, but Joe has no wish to watch tv, or drink, or play games, only wants to spend time with Caspar, talking. Maybe kissing. Cuddling.

“Yeah.”

For a moment they stand still, looking at one another like they can see the whole world, the whole universe before them. 

Caspar sighs, “You’re so beautiful.” He says and Joe can feel his body tingling, like there is a little flame flickering in his chest, in his throat, below his stomach.

He blushes and shakes his head. “Let’s go.” He takes Caspar’s hand into his, tugs him up the stairs.

He pushes the bedroom door open with his free hand, and Caspar closes it when they are both inside. It is dark, but the curtains are open and the orange glow of streetlights dimly lights the room. Joe leaves Caspar’s hand, closes the curtains.

“We could put a light on.” He suggests, turning back towards his boyfriend. His boyfriend, “And talk for a while, or we could sleep, or talk in the dark. Or something else I don’t mind-“

“Joe.” Caspar’s voice is calm, soft, and there is always some about the way he says his name. Like it is special, and it means something to him, every time he gets to say it. Like he is privileged to.

Joe looks at him. He falls quiet, because he is suddenly close to Caspar, and he is so beautiful and handsome and perfect. And he is funny, and weird and unique in the best way. He could watch him forever. “Hi.” He croaks out, feeling Caspar’s arm slip around his hip. He knows they are going to kiss, for real, for the first time being real, official boyfriends, with nothing stopping them.

“Hey.” Caspar whispers back, leaning down and rubbing their noses together. Joe cannot help but close his eyes, fold his arms around Caspar’s neck.

They are so close that Joe can hear Caspar exhale, can feel the breath flutter past his lips. They stay like that for a while, and Joe listens to Caspar’s breathing, likes the fact that he can. It makes Caspar so _real_ , and present and so _alive_ under his touch. Then they kiss. Joe is almost not prepared for it, stumbles backwards a couple of steps, smiles a little because this is real and happening, right now. _He is kissing his boyfriend_. He feels Caspar smile too, finds himself giggling.

“You can’t smile while we’re kissing.” Caspar sort of whines, breaking apart their lips but pressing their bodies close together. Joe chuckles quietly, and he can’t stop grinning.

“I’m sorry.” He says, “I’m just, really happy.”

Caspar smiles, “I’m happy too.”

Joe is blushing, feeling his chest sort of constrict. “Can we just cuddle?”

“Sure.” Caspar goes to wrap his arms around him.

“I mean in bed.”

“Oh, right.” Caspar smiles, sort of embarrassed but amused.

They discard their clothes, leaving them in a pile by the bed before clambering into the covers. Joe shuffles over to Caspar immediately, presses himself close against Caspar’s skin, his nose sort of nestled into his neck. They lie there quietly.

“Did you really mean it?” Joe asks after a while. His face feels hot and he lifts it from Caspar’s shoulder.

“Mean what?” Caspar turns his body onto its side so he is facing his boyfriend. The mattress creaks as he gets comfortable.

“That you’re happy.” Joe’s heart feels suddenly too big for his chest. It is slipping up into his throat, making it hard to breathe.

Caspar’s eye brows dip and his nose scrunches, “Joe, of course I’m happy.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, I feel bad about what happened with my girlfriend but, I’m sort of glad it happened. Now we’re together and there is nothing that could make me happier than that.”

Joe swallows the lump in his throat, tries to settle his heart, “Really?” He drops his gaze from Caspar’s face, but he can feel his breath. “But I always made you so unhappy.”

“Joe.” Caspar leans close to him, presses their lips together for a few moments, just touching their mouths together. He pulls away, looks at him so softly and carefully, taking in every crease and every little freckle he can find, “It was the situation we were in that made me unhappy. Not you. You make me the happiest in the world.”

Joe bites his lip. He can’t look Caspar in the eye. _He makes Caspar happy._ “I just, I thought you were happier with her.”

Caspar thinks for a moment. “I wasn’t. She didn’t make me unhappy, exactly, but seeing you sad did, knowing we may never be, made me unhappy. Joe, just because I smile and laugh, doesn’t mean my heart is all flowers and rainbows.”

Finding himself smiling, Joe looks up. Even in the dark, Caspar’s eyes seem to shine. “What about now?”

Caspar grins nudges their noses together for a moment. “Overflowing with flowers and gay rainbows.” Joe can’t help but laugh.

They fall quiet. Joe feels like he’s overflowing with flowers and gay rainbows too. Their legs intertwine under the covers.

“Joe... I love you.”

His heart stops and his brain seems to malfunction and short circuit. The last time Caspar said that too him, was the day they moved out. They were crying, and Caspar dried his eyes and clutched his hands tightly. _I love you so much Joe, you know that. So much and I’m never going to stop._ He may not have stopped loving him, but he stopped reminding him. He never uttered the words again, just left them hanging and dancing about in the air whenever they said goodbye. Like when Joe was ill and he came over, or when Joe stayed over at Caspar’s, or when they were in the bathroom the other day.

But now Caspar has said it again, and he says it as if it was his first time ever admitting it. He lies there, head half buried in the pillow, waiting for Joe to reply.

“I love you too.” Joe tells him. He smiles, leans closer to Caspar so their lips can touch with barely any movement.

“I am really proud of you.” Caspar tells him after a quiet few moments. “For today, and yesterday. Is that what you called me about?”

Joe feels his heart drop. He forgot about that. “Yeah. I wanted to tell you, I did but-“

“Hey.” Caspar hushes him, “I’m not mad. It’s okay. I know now.”

“A least if I told you on the phone, you wouldn’t have cheated though.”

“Woah.” Caspar stops him, runs his hand down Joe’s side. It makes him shiver. “Don’t try and make it sound like me cheating was your fault. It’s over. It’s fine. Let’s just sleep.”

Slowly, Joe nods, lays his head onto Caspar’s chest as Caspar moves, lays on his back. Caspar kisses his forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Joe says, even though he’s just said it. Because they have two years of _I love you's_ to catch up on, and he doesn’t want to waste anytime, “Night Cas.”

Caspar runs his fingers through Joe’s hair, then rests his hand over Joe’s shoulders. “Night Joe.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this ride of a fic. I don't think I planned it to be this long and I'm not joking when I say this took /months/ to write. Seriously. And I just spent no joke two hours reading, editing and finalising it 9so any typos or grammar errors now present can rot lmao).
> 
> But yeah, this took a hella lot of effort and carefully crafted similes and while there are some things I would have wanted to include- Joe talking to Cas' gf, Joe coming out to his sister, Caspar telling Josh, the feelings over valentine's day- I'm happy with how it turned out. (Maybe, and I mean MAYBE, I'll add these as deleted scenes later on)
> 
> So I really hopes you liked this, kudos and comments would be very much appreciated, thank you for reading xxxxx


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